


A Little Unsteady

by Dekka



Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020), 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020) RPF
Genre: Addiction recovery, M/M, Mentions of Suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 10:40:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29650086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dekka/pseuds/Dekka
Summary: “I’m so proud of you,” Carlos says, over and over again. He wont stop saying it until Tk believes him with every fiber of his being.
Relationships: Carlos Reyes/TK Strand
Comments: 15
Kudos: 121





	A Little Unsteady

Carlos is good at waiting. Since the tenth grade, when he first knew he wanted to be a cop, he made patience his priority. 

Gun at his chest? He’d wait to escalate the situation. 

Jumper on a bridge? He’d approach, calm and slow. 

Boyfriend not talking to him? He’d play the long game. 

It’s how Carlos finds himself camped out alone on his couch on a Friday night, heading into a long weekend with no shifts, while he boyfriend hides away in his room. 

Animal plant is parroting facts off that he’d rather not know, but if he listens closely enough he thinks he can hear the shower off the master bedroom running behind him. 

By the third loop through on penguin mating rituals with still no Tk in sight, even Carlos can admit his slow and steady approach to life might not always be the best. 

Just when he’s ready to throw in the towel, the unthinkable happens: Tk emerges, freshly washed hair dry and fluffy, and a Austin PD sweatshirt drowning him. 

“There’s my boy,” Carlos teases, opening his arms up in invitation. When Tk falls into him, burying his face in his chest, Carlos is already well aware of the fact that something isn’t right. 

“Good shower?” He asks, when Tk doesnt return his greeting. Playing stupid doesnt suit him, but slowly prodding answers out of suspects does. 

“Long shift,” Tk corrects, and rolls over so that he can stare up at Carlos. The truth is all there in his eyes; Red, bloodshot, exhausted…lost. 

After a year together, Carlos knows everything about Tk is fleeting. His good moods, his appetite for their relationship, and even his sex drive comes and goes. But it’s what they’ve been working through together. No one ever promised addiction recovery would be easy, and the ones who did had obviously never seen it first hand. 

“You didn’t answer my texts today,” Carlos mentions. Confrontation with Tk is never a sure bet, but to ease the blow Carlos finds himself threading his fingers through his boyfriend’s hair, begging the distractions grounds Tk as much as it’s grounding him. 

Instead of an answer, Tk shrugs. 

It’s where Carlos’ unending patience comes in. He remains a constant, steady, loving presence—his hand still working it’s way through Tk’s hair— and waits for Tk to come to him. 

All the while, the program on the TV changes to Lions who are out stalking their prey in fields further than the camera can fully capture. When the final kill is made by the pride, Tk turns away. It’s his sweet nature, his need to save everyone and everything, that Carlos loves most. 

Softly, so softly Carlos can barely make out his voice, Tk says something, drawing Carlos’ eyes back to him from the Tv. 

Carlos only has to look down at him, a question written over his face, before Tk starts to visibly gear himself up for what he’s about to say- again. 

“I wanted to use today.” 

Carlos’ fingers freeze, stuck on a knot. Brown eyes meet unyielding blue head on for the first time that night. Unable to fully process the words, he finds himself instead categorizing his physical reactions. His hand that was on Tk’s stomach has locked up, bunching the PD sweatshirt in his grip. His heart—usually unshakable—stutters. 

“Tk…” He doesnt have words, at first. 

Sometimes he wishes he could just hold Tk here forever, lock him away and keep him safe from everything bad in the world. But reality always dawns, and Carlos is smart enough to know these monsters of theirs live inside the walls. 

“Thank you for telling me.” If his voice doesnt come out as strong as he hoped it would, he cant be blamed. 

To avoid his stare or to be held tighter, Tk turns into Carlos’ stomach, folding into him. 

“I hate this.” Tk’s mumble can barely be heard, but Carlos feels it in the warm puff of breath that leaks through his shirt. 

“Did something trigger you?” It’s never an easy question, especially with their line of work. Mostly, Tk avoids the answer, but tonight he just nods. 

Carlos thinks first of all the OD calls they take, then of how many suicides. “Will you tell me?” 

The glance Tk gives him is heartbreakingly fearful. “I don’t want you to be mad.” 

Almost involuntarily, a smile breaks over Carlos’ face. He cant help but cup Tk’s cheeks and force him to really look at him. “I’m so proud of you.” He peppers the truth with a kiss to Tk’s lips, then his nose, then forehead even as his boyfriend pretends to squirm away. “Tk,” Carlos says seriously, when he finally does pull away, “I’m so happy you’re talking to me about all of this. I want to be here for you. I wont be mad.” 

He’s not expecting the way Tk’s face falls, sullen, at his words. “I have to show you something,” he says. “It’s okay, really, if you’re mad.” 

Carlos doesnt think there’s anything about tk that could anger him right now, but he saves his reservations as Tk pulls himself up and then offers his hand to Carlos. 

The silence between them is heavy, tk’s death-grip on his hand leading him back to the bedroom, then to the bathroom. Before he opens the door, he stops in front of it, blocking Carlos from going any further. “I had to tell you,” he says. 

The pit in Carlos’ stomach is growing bigger by the second, gnawing its way up to his throat. “Show me, please.” 

Tk leads him in to the cabinets, then stops. Carlos has a sinking suspicion that he knows where this might be going. Unwilling to let his mind wonder any further, he nods Tk on. 

Like he knew he would, Tk’s hand goes to the third drawer and opens it. “I was looking for that cologne you always wear this morning,” he explains, digging through the drawer. “And I found these.” The bottle he holds up is old, maybe a year or two expired. It doesnt stop the label from being any less bold or the color of the lid any less orange. 

“I was hurt on duty a couple years ago,” Carlos explains. He reaches out carefully, almost scared Tk will pull back, and takes the pill bottle. There’s at least ten Vicodin tablets left. He hates that he tries to remember how many he took back then, his mental math going in circles as he tries to convince himself that Tk didn’t use them. “I’m sorry you had to find them.” 

“Me too,” Tk echoes. The way his eyes don’t leave the bottle even as Carlos stuffs them away into his pocket makes the dark, fear mongering beast inside of him rear its head. 

“The pharmacy downtown has a place you can return unused meds. I’ll go there in the morning.” Usually, having sure steps laid out always calms his racing mind, but today there’s too many uncertainties. 

“Thank you,” Tk whispers. 

“Did you-”

“No,” Tk says. Carlos cant tell if his answer is too fast to be truthful or not. 

Whatever’s on his mind must translate to his face, because Tk crumbles in on himself, the counter the only thing supporting his weight. 

“Hey,” Carlos says, alarmed, but Tk just shakes his head even as his breathing speeds. The only thing Carlos can do is wrap his arms around him and pray that it’s enough to hold him through this. 

“I trust you,” Carlos promises him, kissing the side of his head as if that’ll seal the words into his brain. “And I’m so proud of you for coming to me about this. But remember what we talked about?” 

He waits and waits until Tk’s able to pull in enough air to answer. “I told you I’d always lie. That you couldn’t trust me when I’m thinking like an addict.” The pain alone in Tk’s eyes nearly takes Carlos’ breath away. 

“I trust you, Tk. And I trust those words you said to me. Which is why I have to ask, did you take some pills out of here so that you’d have a backup in case anything happened?” 

It’s silent for too long. 

“I wont be mad,” he reminds Tk. “You came to me about this because you knew I’d ask and you knew I’d stop you from making a bad decision.”

He knows now, but he wants Tk to say it. “So, Tk, did you take some pills out of here?” 

Slowly, hesitantly, Tk nods. The tears streaming from his eyes don’t stop even as he smothers a sob behind a bitten lip. 

“Okay,” Carlos says, soft and sure, even as his stomach sinks impossibly lower, “Show me where.” 

Tk leads him back to his duffle bag and hands over the whole thing. “I don’t want to look at it,” he says. 

Carlos takes it in shaking hands. He’s not ready to acknowledge what today could’ve meant for the future had Tk not told him. 

Gently, aware Tk’s waiting for his reaction, he leads Tk to the bed and sits him down. “I’m going to take care of this,” he says, keeping the duffle zipped, “I just need you to stay here for a moment while I go downstairs, okay?” 

Tk nods, but his eyes never leave the floor. Carlos can feel the shame eating him alive. Before he can deal with that, though, he has to deal with the drugs. 

Taking steps away from Tk right now feels sickeningly wrong, but he has to make their space safe before he can make it better. He goes down the hall to one of his gun safes and digs through Tk’s bag until he finds the bundle of pills. 

It’s amazing, almost, how something so small, so unassuming, can be the cause of so much destruction and death. 

Carlos locks the bottle and pills away, knowing he’ll take care of it and search the rest of the bathroom and house during Tk’s next shift. For now though, he goes back to his bedroom, praying for strength he’s not sure he has. 

“It’s taken care of,” he promises Tk right away. 

All he gets again is a nod. 

This silent, brooding pain is unbearable. “What can I do for you?” Carlos hopes there’s something Tk thinks of that could help, even if it’s something small. 

“Hold me?” His heartbreakingly young eyes couldn’t look any more burdened. 

“That, I can do.” Carlos crawls in behind him, pulls the blankets over them both and tries to squeeze hope back into the trembling frame of the man he loves. 

“Tomorrow will be better,” he promises, tucking Tk’s head under his chin. A shuddering sob is the only answer he gets, but it’s enough to feel Tk, alive and healthy in his arms, to know that they will get through this. 

“I’m so proud of you,” Carlos says, over and over again. He wont stop saying it until Tk believes him with every fiber of his being.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments feed the writer :)
> 
> I don't have the next chapter planned yet so let me know what you'd like to see!


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